Nineteen

"Gordon," the gravelly greeting startled the Commissioner, though he had been waiting for Batman's arrival all night.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Gordon asked.

"I spoke with Susan Wainwright. The woman from the news," Bruce began. "I don't think she's lying, surprisingly enough. I think Joker's prisoner is her daughter. But that doesn't change the fact that she murdered her late husband. I've got enough evidence of it to put her away for a long time."

James sighed and shook his head. Another lead wasted. The woman knew nothing about the girl and she was a murderer.

"I've put it all on your desk. The drugs she used, internet history—it all points to her," Batman continued.

"I'll get a warrant in the morning. She's not dangerous, is she?" Jim asked.

"Hardly. Why do you think she resorted to slipping drugs into her husband's food? She's weak and she's frightened. But now our only other potential lead on the girl is Nigma," Bruce replied.

"And who knows if he'll be of help," Gordon muttered.

"I don't know where he's currently located, but I do know where some of his cameras are. I can leave him a message," the Bat suggested.

"If you think that will work," Gordon sighed, only to turn around and find himself alone on the rooftop. "I hate it when he does that."

<><><><><><><><><><><>

Susan woke up gasping as she heard noises in her house. Again.

Fed up with Batman after having to saw herself down with the batarang after their previous meeting, she stormed downstairs.

"Now listen here, you great black heathen! I will not have you make a fool of me in my own house again!" She shrieked, stomping down the stairs.

She froze when, once she'd reached the bottom, cold metal was pressed against her throat as an arm wrapped around her waist from behind.

"Last I checked, uh, Suzy, I'm white. Pasty white. And this isn't really your house," Joker growled into her ear.

"Y-Y-You," Susan stuttered.

"M-Me," Joker mocked, laughing as he threw the woman to the floor in front of him, hitting her head against the island counter of the kitchen.

"I hear you're telling lies on the news, Suzy girl. And good little girls don't tell lies, do they? Well, I guess good little girls don't kill their husbands either so you must be one naughty little girl, huh Suzy?" Joker announced.

"W-What do you want from me?" Susan squeaked. "You can have anything you want, just don't hurt me, please!"

"I don't want what you've got, Suzy. Street girl like you probably has a whole slew of fun diseases huh? But only one unwanted child. My child," he cackled in response.

"Your child?" She asked. "I never had a child with you!"

"Ding ding ding! You have no child, Suzy. Madeline is my daughter, not yours. You're no mother," Joker growled.

Sensing the very real danger she was in, Susan shrunk back.

"Tut tut tut, Suzy, I'm not gonna hurt ya! Just gonna make you smile," he laughed hysterically.

Susan scooted back into the island.

"You see, Madeline has given me so many smiles since we met—I'm only returning the favor," Joker said darkly.

Susan's screams shattered the night air, only slightly softer than Joker's hysterical laughter.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

"Susan Wainwright? James Gordon, GCPD! Open up!" The Commissioner was banging on the front door of Wainwright Manor early the next morning.

Jim turned to the officer he was with, a young Dave Carson. They exchanged confused glances before Jim hardened.

"Alright, Mrs. Wainwright. If you don't come to the door in the next ten seconds, we're breaking it down! We have a warrant here for your arrest! The place is surrounded," Gordon shouted, bluffing. There were no other officers with them.

Jim began to steadily count, growing more and more anxious with each number. Is she actually dangerous? Did she skip town?

Soon enough, he'd reached ten. With a sigh, he gestured to Dave, and together they rammed into the door and knocked it down, guns raised. The pair quickly went through the grand foyer towards the stairway.

Dave suddenly put a hand on Gordon's shoulder, halting him. He listened for a moment, until both he and Jim heard a dripping sound coming from the kitchen. They slowly backtracked and crept to the kitchen, guns at the ready, though they wouldn't need them.

"Oh God," Dave exhaled, covering his nose and mouth with shock and disgust.

"Shit," Jim breathed.

The body of Susan Wainwright was hanging from the same plant hook in the ceiling, this time right side up. The kitchen reeked with the stench of death and decay, making James wonder why they hadn't smelled it earlier.

The dripping sound they'd heard was blood steadily falling to the floor from Susan's sliced open mouth. Still on her face was the terror and pain she must have been feeling in her last moments.

"Commissioner Gordon," Dave said, breaking the tense silence.

Jim turned around to see what he needed only to spot what he must have been about to point out. Written on the wall in blood were the large words:

SHE'S MINE

"Joker," Jim muttered. "Fuck. Dave, call in Forensics."

"Where are you going?" Dave asked, still shaken up by the grisly murder scene.

"I'm going to search the rest of the house. After all, we have a warrant," Gordon pointed out grimly.

Dave the rookie called in for the forensics team to come out to the crime scene while James tried to find the office of the mansion. He ended up having to climb the marble staircase in order to find the large office located in the east wing.

He headed straight for the desk, hurriedly searching through the drawers for anything related to the little girl. There was nothing.

If she did have anything on the girl, it would be hidden somewhere since she probably wanted to keep her a secret.

When this thought occurred to Jim, he immediately began running his hand along the underside of the desk hoping for a secret—there it is.

A secret switch on the underneath side of the desk could be pressed to release a hidden drawer. Gordon pressed the switch and heard the snap of the drawer popping down. He quickly pulled it out and yanked the files out of it, scanning through them.

One of them seemed dedicated to Anthony's death, which would be useful for the investigation, though the primary suspect was now dead. The other was listed as information from a private investigator Susan must have hired. Jackpot.

Finally things were starting to look up. Maybe for once we can have the upper hand on—

A sudden kick of feedback sounded from the intercom, which must have been installed for maids and such.

"Did you get my little message, Gordon? Are you going to have show and tell with Batsy tonight? Can't have that, can we? And plus, I really didn't like that bitch Suzy, so good riddance to her estate. Guess it would've gone to my girl, but she won't need it. She's got me. Well, Gordon, I've got to blow this popsicle stand. Ta-ta! Hahahahaha!"

Gordon was already backing out of the office, files in hand, as the recording started to play throughout the mansion. He knew that they had to get out of there. Dave! Shit! Rookie won't know what to do!

Jim quickly realized that the newbie Carson would have no idea what was coming. He practically flew down the stairs in his haste, screaming at Dave to get out, get out now, before they were both blown half to hell.

Dave heeded his boss's frantic warning and ran out of the house, telling Forensics that a bomb was about to destroy Wainwright Manor. Somehow both officers managed to get out of the house and duck behind their squad car at the end of the long driveway before the mansion exploded, sending debris flying through the air like missiles.

"Now what?" Dave panted.

"Now we do our jobs. See if Forensics can get anything out of this scene. And we got to investigate everything in this file," Gordon decided.

"What file?" Dave asked curiously.

"The file I got out of the office. It looks like Susan had been trying to keep an eye on the girl via a private investigator. We have to see what she knows and find the private eye to get some information out of them," Gordon replied.

He slowly stood up, groaning as his limbs protested. Dave remained crouched on the ground, frozen.

"Are you alright, rookie? I know the first Joker threat can be a bit much," Gordon asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Dave answered, slowly rising to his feet. "Let's just get back to the precinct."

Jim clapped his comrade on the back before they both climbed into their squad car and pulled away.

"I'm going to have to have a press conference about all this later," Gordon thought aloud, sighing. "Ugh, and the news are going to have a field day with all of this."

"How about you go call for a press conference, go get some lunch, relax, get your mind off of it, and then go to the press release and not even worry about it," Dave suggested temptingly.

"That does sound good," Gordon admitted.

"I'll take care of everything," Dave smiled. "I'll just drop you somewhere for lunch, get everything organized, and then come back to bring you to the press conference."

"Thank you, Dave," Gordon sighed.

"No problem, chief," Dave replied, driving them to the nearest diner.

Dave pulled up along the curb and put the car in park. Gordon went to grab the files and get out, but Dave grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"You can't take your mind off of it if you're scouring these while you eat. And we both know that you will. Leave them. You can pick up where you left off when you're done with lunch," Dave pointed out.

Gordon chuckled, knowing that the rookie was probably right. If he brought his work to lunch he wouldn't enjoy it nearly as much. So he acquiesced, drawing his hand back and getting out of the car. Dave tipped his police hat at him before he pulled away.

Jim was in the middle of his lunch when the phone rang. He picked it up quickly, figuring it was probably Dave wanting to give him information on the press release.

"Hello?" He asked.

"Hey, who was that guy with you that called Forensics at the Wainwright Manor?" The officer asked without preamble.

"It was that rookie, Dave Carson," Gordon answered, smiling in remembrance.

"That can't be. Dave Carson quit yesterday. He hasn't been seen since," the man replied.

"I was just with him. He had his badge and everything. If that wasn't Dave Carson than who the hell was it?" Jim demanded, hushed even in his incredulity, as he was still in the diner.

"That's what we're trying to figure out. There's a patrol car missing. We've sent guys to Carson's place to check on him. There's a good chance that we've just been played," the officer on the phone sighed.

"Joker," Gordon growled, beginning to sound like his caped compadre. "And I left the files with that guy! Dammit!"

"What files?" The other cop asked immediately.

"Just the secret files from Susan Wainwright's office that may have told us something about Joker's girl and finally put us on an even playing field for once," Jim grumbled.

He could almost hear Joker's laughter.

<><><><><><><><><><><>

"I got the files," not-Dave said, twitching anxiously as he stood in front of the most feared man in Gotham.

"And?" Joker drew out.

"Oh, uh, sorry, here you go, boss," not-Dave stuttered as he handed the file over.

"Dave Carson?" J drawled, thumbing the edge of the file sitting on his desk.

"Dead," not-Dave said shortly.

"Dark. Interesting—I didn't think you had it in you, Bill," Joker chuckled. "So, tomorrow you go back and—"

"Tomorrow?" Bill asked. "I can't go back tomorrow, they'll arrest me."

Joker clicked his tongue, jaw clenching as he frowned deeply.

"You got found out?"he demanded sharply.

"Y-Yes," Bill replied.

"Oh, Billy, Billy, Billy," Joker sighed. "I really wish you hadn't done that. Now I'm gonna have to make you squeal like a little billy goat."

A knife appeared in his hand as if from nowhere as he flew across his desk and to his prey. I've been meaning to replace the carpet anyways.